Falling
by Luckysee12
Summary: After taking a tumble, Bifur finds himself collapsed on the doorstep of Bag End. Bilbo can't just leave an injured dwarf there, can he? Here begins the story of Bilbo and Bifur.
1. Chapter 1

Bifur never was completely sure how he had gotten separated from his group. Somewhere after Bree, he had gone in a different path than his traveling companions, and instead of traveling to the Blue mountains, had ended up lost in a hilly green area. Maybe he had just wandered off, or had seen something attracting his attention, he never could really be sure.

He barely remembered wandering around, the ax long embedded in his temple fuzzing his vision, a spell of dizziness and confusion falling over him. He remembered the way his head seemed to be surrounded in a fog. He had stumbled across the plains, whatever path he had followed long gone from beneath his boots.

His mind swirling in a confusing haze, he neglected to see the hill under him cutting off in a sharp drop, and tumbled down the slope, landing jarringly onto the stoop of a hobbit hole he would later learn was called Bag End.

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Bilbo had been doing some light housework when he heard the muffled thumps on his roof. Guessing it was just some fauntlings taking a shortcut, he continued to dust the tall corners of his entry way. The much louder thump outside his door, however, was not as easily passed off. It was definitely not a pleasant sound. Bilbo frowned worriedly, and set his feather duster down.

He opened his large round door to see a pile of limbs and furs sitting on his front steps haphazardly. Biblo looked up for a moment, and upon seeing some of the grass from atop his home clear ripped off and some still hanging by its roots, concurred that whatever it was at his door must have fell.

Now, his home wasn't especially tall, but a drop like that was certainly not a good thing. He looked back at the lump, and took to moving some of the fur and haphazardly lain arms. It was definately not a hobbit at his door, not with that beard. It could not be a man either, much too small. It must be a dwarf, Bilbo decided, looking at the gray and black braids twisted into his beard. There was an axe in the poor soul's brow, but thankfully not a new injury, one look at the scarring could tell him that.

Now, Bilbo could not just leave the poor dwarf laying there, especially after a fall like that. The dwarf was knocked clean out, being a difficult dead weight for Bilbo to carry in. Bilbo had to take off the various weapons the dwarf had and put them in his front entry, and still had to remove many of the furs and coats he wore to be able to move the dwarf.

He moved the dwarf to his nearest guest bedroom, and managed to haul the dwarf onto the bed. Bilbo brought the furs back to the dwarf, arranging some of them over the dwarf, and pulling a downy quilt over the dwarf. He could not do much else while the dwarf was unconscious, so he let the dwarf lay, and went to his pantry to find some of the healing herbs he kept.

Bilbo decided on brewing some peppermint tea for his new guest. Peppermint would help any pain the dwarf felt from falling. It then really dawned on Bilbo what exactly he had come across. A dwarf had literally fell into his home. Now if that wasn't unusual. Bilbo chuckled to himself. "Fancy that." He muttered to himself.

* * *

When he woke, Bifur's mind was relatively clear. He was confused, however, by his surroundings. He remembered traveling on the road surrounded by wilderness, not a cozy room with quilted blankets and rugs on wooden also vaguely remembered falling, and then nothing after that. He felt for his weapons, and upon finding them missing, grunted "_What..?"_. He shifted to sitting up, his head pounding, especially around his scarring.

He took a few deep breaths and attempted to stand up, before promptly crumpling down "_Mahal damn it all!_" He cursed from the floor. He hear the door creak open swiftly, and felt small hands help him up.  
"You must be careful Master Dwarf." A soft voice told him, "You don't want to strain yourself." Bifur huffed at that. Him, strain himself? Ha! "_I am stronger than you take me for._" He mumbled, getting a good look at the one helping him.

He was a small creature, probably a head shorter than himself. He wore no shoes and had odd curled blonde-brown hair on his feet, matching the curls on his head. He wore fine clothing, from his trousers to his waistcoat. He seemed no more than a young lad, no whiskers on his face even. "Was that Khuzdul?" The lad asked him, a curious look on his face.

Bifur had briefly forgotten that this boy was not a dwarf, and would not understand him. He attempted to sign to the boy, but at the puzzled face concluded that the boy did not know any of the signs. He simply nodded to the boys question. "You do not speak Common then?" The curly headed creature said. Without getting an answer, he continued. "My name is Bilbo Baggins. You fell off the top of my home, so I brought you inside. I wouldn't move to much, I'm sure a fall like that would definitely hurt."

So that was it? Bifur frowned at himself. He really hated when that thrice damned ax gave him those spells. This time he fell off a _house_. Not that he hadn't done anything similar in his spells before but it was still pathetic. Bifur looked to Bilbo and said "Bifur." pointing to himself. His name was understandable to others at least.

"Bifur is your name?" Bilbo clarified. Bifur nodded in return. "Very well Master Bifur." Bilbo smiled. "I am not sure how you came to be here, but you are welcome to stay while you're healing from that nasty fall." Bifur nearly snorted. He was fine, he was a dwarf after all. That fall earlier was just a fluke. It had to have been. He was fine, really.

Bilbo kept that nice smile on his face, his nose wrinkling slightly. "I don't know if you're hurting yet or not, but I made some peppermint tea. It really helps with aches. Would you like some?" Bifur wasn't usually a tea drinker, he usually drank ale and mead, but he was thirsty enough to agree. Bilbo nodded at him politely, before leaving the room.

Bifur sat in the bed and sighed. Bilbo was nice and all, but Bifur could only stay a short while. He needed to find his companions. His cousins were waiting in the mountains for him, and he didn't want to keep them waiting. As he felt the pounding in his head start again, he decided he could probably wait a few days with this Bilbo character, just until he was travel ready again.

Just a few days.

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**Hello everyone :) Welcome to a hopefully nice story about a rare pair that I've come to like. This will eventually be Bifur/Bilbo, whatever the ship name is. Bifurbil? Biffins? I know there's not a lot out there, so I felt kind of obligated to make one ;w; I'm not sure how many chapters this will be, but hopefully not too long :)**

**Read and Review darlings, I am open to suggestions :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Their first day together was passed in silence mostly, Bilbo occasionally stopping in the guestroom's door frame to check on his guest. Bifur had finally given up and slept for the rest of the day. Bilbo had in this time gone a bit overboard. Bilbo had wished to cook some food, as surely the dwarf would be ravenous when he woke up. Unfortunately, he had no idea of a dwarf's tastes. He ended up with many dishes, and when he had set them on his small kitchen table, he realised how much he really had made.

He simmered some lentils with shallots, thyme, and bay leaf, while in another pot boiled potatoes from his garden. While the lentils and potatoes simmered, he assembled the dressing. The potatoes were sliced and mixed with the lentils and dressing. He started in on his next dish, sure that just the lentil and potato salad wouldn't be enough for a dwarf large as Bifur.

He made a second salad, mixing cut blood oranges, toasted hazelnuts, fennel, shallots, mint, and olive oil. He roasted a few potatoes with parsley leaves as well. He sliced zucchini, dipped the slices in egg whites, and rolled them in cheese and breadcrumbs, before baking until until it was crisped. Bilbo soaked farro for a time, adding onion, garlic, tomatoes, salt, pepper, and oil. He put the pasta on a serving platter, sprinkling basil and cheese on the top.

A quick chicken noodle soup was whipped up, and Bilbo found the time to make dough for fig challah. He rolled the dough, filling it with fig filling, and braiding it into the intricate shape of challah, like his mother had taught him. He had barely notice the sun had set long ago, and he had been so busy cooking, he had missed a meal.

Assembling it on the table, he looked over his work. It was quite a bit, but he had been careful to make it only in two portions. Portions sized as if the biggest hobbit in the Shire were to eat them. Hopefully it was enough. Bilbo brought out some sweet peach liquor. He had ale, but was unsure if it would be good or bad for the dwarf.

Bilbo went down the hallway, and gently knocked on the door. "Master Bifur, I have supper ready." He said softly, pushing the door open. Bifur rose up and mumbled something in a tongue Bilbo could not understand. "Will you come eat? I can help you to the table." Bilbo offered, but the dwarf stubbornly shook his head, speaking again and rapped a hand against his chest. After an initial stumble, Bilbo refused to let Bifur walk on his own, and was escorted through Bag End to the table.

* * *

Bifur had been wary of the call of food. He was hungry, but he was doubtful Bilbo knew much about dwarf eating habits. Sitting at the table, he found not a thing he recognized, but found he did not mind. There was less meat than he was accustomed to, but he was hungry enough to not care. Bifur was patient and allowed his host to put some of everything on his plate but the soup and set it in front of him.

Bifur tried the dish that looked the least green first. He attempted use of the fork, the memory of how they were used in the back of his mind. He usually didn't, but he supposed his host would expect him to. He speared a fried circle on his fork and put it all in his mouth at once. He found it crunchy, a bit salty. It was very good, and reminded himself of his mother and her tendancy to fry, since she was unable to cook almost any other way.

He attempted the pasta next, wary of getting sauce in his beard. It had a meaty taste, but full of tomato and seasoning too. It was flavorful, and very different from the crispy dish he just had. He ate it rather quickly, missing the amused expression across the table from him. The potatoes were simple, yet Bifur found he enjoyed them more than any other time he had eaten them.

The chicken noodle soup was soothing, and he slurped it down, whether or not he'd admit it to anyone. The salad with the fruit in it seemed strange to him. It was full of plants, like the treeshaggers ate. Bifur was reluctant, but placed his trust in the other good things he had eaten. It tasted bright, even if he couldn't fathom what exactly he meant by that. It was sweet and sour with crunchiness, and Bifur thanked Mahal that he had given into eating plant food.

The final thing on his plate was another salad. He didn't hesitate this time. It was slightly crunchy, with a zing to it and a earthy taste. He found himself in the predicament of an empty plate, but when a soft hand scooped the offending plate up and filled it again, he found himself smiling. "_Thank you, little one._"

* * *

Bilbo had to admit, silence was a great compliment to any cook. Bilbo watched as Bifur tried the fried zucchini first, and at the rate it was eaten, he assumed it was good. The pasta was eaten in a similar fashion, the potatoes heartily bitten into. Bilbo found it kind of strange how Bifur handled his silverware. Did dwarves not use them? Bifur looked like he was trying, and Bilbo smiled at that.

Bifur seemed wary of the orange and fennel salad, but once he got a bite, devoured that quickly too. The potato and lentils were eaten as well, and Bilbo almost giggled at the near childish glare Bifur gave the empty plate. Bilbo left his seat, and refilled the plate. He heard Bifur speak in his language, a cacophony of harsh words, but said warmly enough. Bilbo smiled, taking it as something nice.

* * *

**Recipes mentioned were found at smitten kitchen . com**

**So much fooooood. Ugh I'm hungry. And have been craving a milkshake for days now.**

**Read and Review darlings! I love getting feedback and learning what you guys like and want.**


	3. Chapter 3

By the third day, Bifur decided he had enough of attempting to communicate with the hobbit. It wasn't terrible when it was just for a short time with a trader or something in that respect, but it had become a pain attempted to talk to the hobbit with words he didn't understand and gestures.

Bifur started with simple things. He'd start making signs, and hoped Bilbo would pick up eventually on what he meant. Bringing his hand from his chin and forward was used when the hobbit helped him, 'thank you'. When sleepy, clasping hands together and leaning on them, like a bed. Pinching his fingers together and bringing each hand together, signaling 'more', or holding his hands in front, palms outwards and shaking them to signal 'all done'. Clenching and unclenching his hand for 'milk' and moving three fingers from his chin and back for 'water' seemed to confuse Bilbo for a time, until he realised it was for a certain drink, not all drinks.

'Drink' was easier, just miming raising a mug to his lips, and 'eating' like raising food to his mouth. 'Book' was quickly picked up on, just miming turning a page. 'Bathroom' was a pushing your thumb between his pointer finger and middle finger, and rubbing his pointer finger against his thumb. Bilbo learned quickly, and was able to understand most basic signs a few days after.

At three days they had also become less wary of each other. There was less worry of stepping on toes or awkwardness between them. They slipped into such a balance that they barely realised it. Bilbo was a homebody mostly. He cooked, he cleaned, he did most domestic chores. Bifur helped best he could, reaching on top of tall chests and dusting high corners.

They spent time outside as well. Bifur knew little about plants, but he enjoyed watching when Bilbo dug his hands into the earth and cared for the bright flowers and green shoots. Bifur enjoyed himself, sitting beside Bilbo and singing low, soft songs from his childhood.

It became Bilbo-and-Bifur, not just Bilbo and Bifur. Where one was, the other was easily found. They coexisted, and enjoyed each other's company, from quiet walks in the woods to bustling through the market place to calm nights in armchairs. Bifur had been accepted by the hobbits of Hobbiton, and became almost like their mascot. He could be found with little fauntlings hanging from his arms and small ones grabbing handfuls of beard, and sitting with the gruff old hobbit men with wise eyes and wrinkled faces smoking his pipe or carving some pbscure shape out of a chunk of wood.

It was months later, late into Spring before it occured to Bifur about his family still waiting for him. He mused they were worried, but he was selfish enough to not want to keep on to the mountain. He said so to Bilbo, gestures telling of his kin in the mountains. Bilbo smiled at him softly and told him to go and seek his family. Bifur was no longer injured and his cousins needed him.

Bifur was sent off with finer clothing than he had come in, furs and weapons on him, a pack full of food and supplies and a warm bedroll. Bilbo couldn't bear to see his dwarf off unprepared. Bifur looked at the rolling hills, and went on, to the mountains. Long and far behind him, Bilbo sat slumped against his green door and didn't know it yet, but his dwarf longed for him too, and as fate would have it, he would be returning soon.

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**Hello Darlings! I realise this written a bit differently and ntot as personal, but we'll get back to that soon.**

** Read and review **


	4. Chapter 4

Upon his return, Bifur's cousins were overjoyed. When asked where he had been, he had told them he had stayed in the Shire, and told him of his hobbit. He didn't disclose Bilbo's name, no matter how hard his cousins pushed. The only one who didn't push was Bombur's wife, Myrir. "Leave him alone you two. Is he not allowed ta have a moment's rest before you two pestah him ta Moria and back? Mahal knows why I married into this family." She had said, accenting her speech with a gentle head bump to Bifur. "Welcome back Bifur. I'm sure you had quite a journey back. Go rest you foolish dwarf."

He missed Bilbo terribly for the first few weeks. He'd find himself signing to an empty corner that he swore just had a wide smile and golden curls. His cousins welcomed him right back into the family fold, and even though he was busy with the small army of dwarflings that his brother had, he still found idle times to stare blankly ahead and imagine nights in front of a warm fire watching the way Bilbo smiled.

When Bofur and Bombur joined the company of Thorin Oakenshield to reclaim Erebor, Bifur tailed after them. They were to meet up in the Shire, that being the only instruction he and his cousins had. They later met the brothers Ri who had further instructions, and Oin and Gloin, who mentioned Bag End. Bifur's heart soared at that.

They had managed to find the smial, Bifur not so subtly leading them. They found four more of their company out at the gate, looking rather confused. "He just slammed the door in our faces!" Kili complained loudly. "Maybe it's the wrong house?" Bombur said, but Balin shook his head. "Nay, it has the mark Gandalf said to look for."

Bifur didn't even pause at the gate. "Bifur, what are you-" Bofur had attempted to stop him, but Bifur waved his hand at him, and made a gesture telling him to be quiet. Bifur strolled right up to the door, and knocked three times.

All the dwarves could hear the hobbit inside. "I told you once, I am not accepting any company-" The door opened harshly, and they saw the man go wide eyed. "Bifur?" Bifur gave a salute in greeting, a bright smile on his face.

The dwarves looked in bewilderment as Bifur was nearly tackled off the front step by the hobbit. "Bifur! You stupid dwarf! You had to wait a whole year to come back?" Bofur and Bombur's eyes widened in realization. "So this is your hobbit, is it cousin?" Bofur called out jauntily. Biblo laughed and pulled back slightly in your embrace. "You must be Bofur and Bombur. Bifur told me much about you. I don't remember him speaking about quite this many dwarves…"

Bifur made a few signs, telling him they were told by Gandalf to meet here for a quest to reclaim Erebor. "Oh that damned wizard." Bilbo mumbled. "Ah well. Any friends of Bifur are friends of mine. Come in, come in, I apologize for shutting the door in your faces earlier." Bilbo told them sheepishly, ushering them in.

Bilbo prepared a quick dinner, which was an amazingly large spread, a few of Bifur's favorites, including fried zucchini, was placed directly in front of him, and he guarded them from his cousins. Family or not, they were his dammit!

When Bilbo worried about his plates, the other dwarves began singing and tossing them among themselves. After seeing Bilbo's distraught face, Bifur piped up angrily. "_Knock this off! Is this any way to treat our host_?" He said angrily in Khuzdul, causing the others to look at him. "_Those are his deceased mother's and hold a lot of value to him. If any of them are so much as scratched, I will hang you by your beards over Mount Doom, am I clear_?"

All dwarves, Dwalin included, set the plates down slowly and clamored to apologize to Bilbo. "Thank you, Bifur." Bilbo said gratefully. There were several hard knocks at the door. "He's here…" Someone whispered. Bilbo went to open the door, and Bifur stood a few paces behind him protectively.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I would not have found it at all if not for that mark on the door." Bilbo looked sharply at Gandalf, who had joined them not long after the dwarves had been welcomed in. "You put a mark on my door? Dammit Gandalf, I just painted it." Gandalf gave him an almost sheepish smile. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.

"So, this is the hobbit." Thorin said, his voice a deep rumble. Bilbo bowed deeply. "Bilbo Baggins, at your service." Bifur smiled slightly, for he had been the one to teach the proper greeting to him. "So tell me, have you done much fighting?" Bilbo tilted his head at that. "Pardon me?" "Ax or sword, what's your weapon of choice?"

Bilbo smiled impishly. "Well I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know." Bifur tried not to snort in the background. That was certainly Bilbo's sass coming out. Thorin scowled. "I thought as much." He said. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Bilbo turned on his heels and shrugged. "And you look more like an ass than a king." He said loudly. Bifur couldn't help it that time. Trust Bilbo to dish out insults like the best of them. The few times he and Bilbo fought, Bifur never won.

A few other dwarves snickered, and Thorin's glare deepened. "How dare you-" "No, how dare you?" Bilbo said, turning back to Thorin, Bifur at his left. "You have no right to come into my own home and insult me. I'll gladly host for your companions because they have been mostly respectful and polite, but you have been a rude guest, especially for a king. I thought Kings were taught their manners."

Thorin looked torn for a moment. He sighed, and bowed his head. "I understand. I apologize for my behavior." Bilbo smiled. "As long as you're sorry for it. Come into the kitchen, I had set aside some food for you since you were coming later."

After Thorin had eaten, Bilbo was told of the quest by the wizard who had joined them not long after. "I assume Bifur is going?" A few dwarves nodded, and Bifur shook a fist up and down as a yes. "Then I will go as well." Bilbo said with little hesitation. They passed him the contract wordlessly. "Incineration?" He said quizzically. "Ah, like a giant furnace with wings." Bofur said helpfully, and Bombur elbowed him for it. Bilbo shrugged. "Could be worse ways to go, I suppose." He said, signing his name with a flourish. "Then it is settled." Thorin said, rolling up the contract.

There were only seven guest rooms, so the dwarves retired in groups. Gandalf had his own room as did Thorin, Kili and Fili took Ori to another. Nori and Dwalin took a room, Balin and Dori taking one across the hall. Gloin and Oin took the one at the end of the hallway, and Bofur and Bombur took the last room, which used to be Bifur's.

Bifur had raised an eyebrow at that, but was pleasantly surprised when he was led by the hand into Bilbo's room. "I missed you very much." Bilbo said softly. Bifur signed back the same as best he could with one hand.

"I-I…" Bilbo spoke softly, and the door shut behind them. "You're going to think me silly…" Bilbo said. "I had a lot of time to think in the year you were…in the mountains and…I think I love you, Bifur." Bifur was surprised at first. He bumped his forehead again Bilbo's. "_Men lananubukhs menu_," He said back, moving one hand to a fist, with his pointer finger and pinky finger up and thumb out.

Bilbo moved forward slightly, his eyes timidly searching his dwarf's face. He pressed his soft warm lips against Bifur's, who reciprocated, his hands wrapped around Bilbo's midsection and joined at the small of his back. It was chaste and sweet, with a lingering warm feeling left behind. They fell asleep between lazy kisses and sweet words.

They were teased somewhat during the journey, but they paid no mind. With Thorin's permission, Bilbo learned Khuzdul, which made it that much sweeter. They snuck away for moments of privacy and when separated for more than an hour, would embrace as if they had not seen each other for years.

After reclaiming Erebor, they had a home, built in the same wing as the rest of the company. After they married they kept a quiet life for the most part, apart for a few battles in which Bifur went out to fight in, and Bilbo trailed after.

When Primula and Drogo Baggins died in the Brandywine, Frodo was sent to Erebor, and found his uncles to be very loving and supportive. He grew up as a hobbit of Erebor, and was basically an honorary dwarf. He played with Fili, Kili, and Gimli, and was taught by Dwalin and Balin, and delighted in spending time with Uncle Bofur and Uncle Bombur and Aunt Myrir.

When Frodo was 35, a few years past majority, he began courting Lyri, Daughter of Bombur. She had red hair like her father, a short braided beard, and her mother's green eyes, with wide hips and a loud proud personality like her uncle Bofur. He was 38 and she was 136 when they married. A few years after, they had a daughter, Fyri, with her father's black hair and her mother's emerald green eyes. Their son, Lyro, had bright red hair and cornflower blue eyes. Lydo, their last child had black hair and the brown eyes that Primula had.

Bilbo met his last grandnephew before he died peacefully in his sleep at 131, 81 years since the dwarves had come into his home. Bifur passed away but a day after at 259. Bofur and Bombur had always supposed it was of heartbreak. Myrir stood at his and Bilbo's graves long after and spoke to them.

"I knew you were in love wit him when you first came home. I am happy you found him again Bifur, for if you hadn't, I'd have made you. Have a nice rest you foolish dwarf, and you as well Bilbo. I know you two need it."

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**Aaaaaah it's done ;w;**

**Psst, Frodo and Lyri are far enough apart related that it shouldn't matter. Frodo is second cousin of Bilbo, and Lyri is the second cousin of Bifur, and Bifur and Bilbo are married, not blood related, so they aren't even technically related at all. **

**Hope you guys have enjoyed the ride as much as I have. I hope this inspires some more Biffins stories as I adore them. **


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